


Everyone Has It

by AshRain114



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 3b, Angst, Brotp, Dark fic, Depression, Flashbacks, Gen, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, I need more ptsd stiles, Nogitsune, Post-Nogitsune, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm, Stiles whump, Whump, friends - Freeform, season 3b, the scenes I wish they'd included, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-23 01:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2529722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshRain114/pseuds/AshRain114
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had shown the Nogitsune he knew the answer to his riddle. The only way he could. PTSD!Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everyone Has It

Stiles didn’t need a shrink.

Well…actually he probably did. But there wasn’t exactly anyone out there who was qualified to help him with what he was dealing with, except maybe Morrell. But the last time he’d spoken with her she’d threatened to kill him, so he didn’t exactly want to sit across from her on a couch and dish his feelings out.

So he did what he always did. Pulled out his computer and researched.

He didn’t want to make any self-diagnosis, but he was pretty sure he was suffering PTSD, at the least. Night terrors, anxiety, flashbacks. That last symptom had made a rather nasty appearance in the middle of Econ when he’d overheard someone in the class talking about bear traps.

Scott had thought it was a panic attack. He had no way of knowing that for the next ten minutes Stiles had thought he was back under Eichen house, his leg mangled in a hunting trap as the bandaged face of the nogitsune taunted him the shadows.

_Everyone has it….but no one can lose it._

_Shadow._

He whispered it over and over again in his head.

_Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow._

When he came back to reality he was whispering out loud as well. He was sitting in the bathroom, Scott sitting in front of him his eyes wide and his eyebrows tiled down at the corners in concern.

Stiles had managed to wave it off, blaming school and exams.It was easy enough to lie to them. They wanted so badly for everything to be alright - especially with him. Stiles didn’t think he could tell them how much he was not okay.

The nightmares were the easiest to avoid. He tried to sleep as little as possible, two hours a night, maybe three. But they always happened.

Sometimes he was in Eichen House. Other times he found himself in the MRI room of the hospital, looking into the bottomless eyes of the nogitsune that wore his face. The look of insanity.

The worst were the nightmares of being trapped. Sometimes he was in the locker, banging, wanting to be let out but void kept him trapped. Sometimes he was wrapped in chains on a bike rack, forcing to watch as he friends were murdered one by one in front of him.

He often wondered if maybe void wasn’t gone. Maybe he was still there trapped in his mind, and all of this: the pain, the nightmares, was it’s way of getting revenge. A new form of torture….

The first time that thought had crossed his mind he actually had had a panic attack.

It had taken his dad nearly three hours to calm him down, and after everything he still wasn’t sure that what he was seeing was real. What if it was an echo, a projection of his mind. A shadow.

“Dude.” Scotts voice called him back to the present day, “Are you okay?”

Stiles blinked, turning to look at him, “What?”

Scott gave him a small half smile, “You broke your pencil.”

Stiles blinked and looked down to realize he was right. His pencil was snapped in half on his notebook and he’d been furiously trying to write with the broken pieces.

“Oh.” He mumbled, reaching into his bag for a pen.

Scott bit her lip, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” Stiles gave him a forced smile, “Yeah, I’m fine. I didn’t get much sleep last night. I was studying.”

Scott nodded in understanding. Stiles had been studying a lot, both to catch up from the time he missed from school when he was possessed, and as an excuse not to go back to sleep.

Stiles sighed in relief and looked back to his notes, moving to continue writing.

He froze.

His paper was covered top to bottom in his scribbled chicken scratch, but it wasn’t chemistry notes.

_Shadow. Shadow Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shadow._

He gapped at the paper, a sick feeling in his stomach. Immediately he crumpled it up and tossed it into his backpack. He pulled out out a fresh piece of paper and continued to write his notes.

 

*** 

  
According to the websites he’d been reading he had survivors guilt. He was blaming himself because he survived and Allison and Aiden didn’t.

But he knew that wasn’t true. It was just good old fashion _guilt._

He was scribbling that word in the margins of his notebook. Shadow. But at least he was doing it consciously this time. Was that progress? He wasn’t sure, but it felt good. It felt reassuring to see that word staring back at him.

Shadow. The word he’d figured out too late.

He tried to remind himself that the nogitsune had probably been lying. In fact it had most _definitely_ been lying. But the words it had spoken still rang in his ears, reverberating throughout his entire body.

_Have you figured out my riddle yet? If you answer correctly, we might consider letting them go. Your friends. Your family. Everyone who ever meant something to you._

In reality the nogitsune was lying. He was playing with Stiles fears, his emotions. He was a trickster - he was tricking Stiles. But there was that tiny voice in the back of his mine (which sounded far too much like the smooth raspy voice of the demon) that whispered doubts into his mind.

What would have happened if he’d known the riddle? Would Allison be dead? Aiden? All those cops at the police station who he’d practically grown up along? What about the mental anguish he’d caused? He could still see the way the others looked at him, like they were wondering if he was actually Stiles. They were wondering if he was still the Nogitsune, just pretending, waiting for the opportune moment to come out and kill them all.

_Everyone has it, but no one can lose it._

_Shadow_

_Everyone has it, but no one can lose it._

_Shadow_

_EVERYONE HAS IT, BUT NO ONE CAN LOSE IT._

_SHADOW!_

He woke up the next day and realized he had carved the word shadow into the wall of his bedroom.

 

***

 

It was easy to cover it up with posters, but at night he’d uncover it, and stare at it for hours. It was better then looking in the mirror.

He avoided mirrors, refusing to make eye contact with himself in any reflection. His skin was pale, his eyes red and his hair stuck up everywhere. He was the spitting image of the nogitsune when he’d taken Stiles’ body.

He always felt that his reflection was watching him, even when he wasn’t watching it.

He took a deep breath, then let it out softly through his nose as he looked at the carved words on his bedroom wall.

There was a knock at the door. “Stiles?”

“Uh, one second!” Stiles jumped up in a panic, grabbing some 80s movie poster that he had pinned it up, covering the carvings. “Okay.”

His dad opened the door and peeked his head in, “Hey there kiddo.”

“Hey dad.” Stiles gave him a quick grin, “I’m thinking about heading to sleep early tonight.”

His dad actually looked relieved. “Good thing kid, you look like they’re gonna drop dead any second now.”

Stiles winced, “Yeah, um…it’s been a bit…” His throated closed up.

His dad looked worried, and came in, sitting beside him on the bed, “Having nightmares?”

“No!” Stiles panicked, but one look at his dads dubious face made him sigh, “Yes…”

“Son.” His dad wrapped an arm around him and gave him a quick one armed hug, “After everything that happened…I’d be surprised if you weren’t having nightmares.” Stiles smiled at him fondly. His dad stood up, “I won’t pry, but you know if you ever need to talk…there’s a huge list of people to talk to, and I’m at the top.”

“Sure dad.” Stiles smiled, lying in a way that he hadn’t been able to do before his possession.

Apparently flashbacks weren’t the only thing the nogitsune had left him.

 

***

 

_“Stiiiiles."_

_He flinched, his vision flashing brightly in his eyes._

_“We can hear you Stiiiles, we can see you.”_

_“No. Go away.” He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts and pay attention to…to…._

_“We are here Stiiles.”_

_“No you’re gone.”_

_“Are you sure?”_

_Then suddenly he was frozen. He couldn’t feel his feet, and his fingers were numb. He was in ratty pajamas, shaking from a mixture of the cold and fear as he lay on the cement floor._

_He was in Eichen House. He was cold and alone and his phone was dead. It was dark, so dark. There were tears in his eyes and he was so cold._

_And there was someone in the shadows._

_“Where are you?”_

_“We are here Stiiiiles. We are always here.”_

_“No.” Stiles sobbed, shaking his head, “No, no, no. We stopped you. You’re gone, gone, gone…”_

_“No, Stiiiiles, we never left.”_

_Stiles sobbed and tried to curl on himself for warmth. He knew what would come next, what always came next._

_“Please…” His lips quivered._

_“What gets bigger the more you take away?”_

_He choked on his own breath. The tears were flowing freely and the answer left his lips before he could stop himself._

_“A hole…”_

_“What gets wetter the more it dries?”_

_He took in a shaky breath, “A towel.”_

_“When is a door not a door?”_

_The creature came into the light, the bandages body of the American solider, burnt alive nearly seventy years ago._

_He was outright sobbing now, trying to scurry back, but the bear trap tugged at his ankle, ripping the skin open and letting more blood out. There was pain and blood all over_

“Stiles!”

_Stiles looked around, the voice wasn’t his, it wasn’t the creatures. It was Scotts._

_But Scott wasn’t here. He was imagining things. Scott didn’t save him, not yet. Not from his own mind._

_“When it’s Ajar.” He breathed out._

_The creature approached him, the bandages falling off him as he went. Stiles shook his head, looking everywhere but at the creature which slowly revealed itself._

_“Hey.” The Nogitsune breathed, his own voice coming out of the demon. It couched down in front of him in his body, looking so painfully confident about everything. It cupped his face, it’s fingers digging painfully into his jaw._

_It leaned in, it’s lips brushing against Stiles ear._

_“Everyone has it, but no one can lose it.”_

_Stiles opened his mouth to answer, but he couldn’t. His lips moved but nothing came out. He started to panic. No, no, no, no, no - he had to tell him. He had to stop him._

_“Stiiiiiles. Everyone has it, but no one can lose it.”_

_Shadow. Shadow. Shadow._

_He reached up to his mouth, and gasped when he found a thick strip of tape covering it. No, no -he needed to get it off._

_“Everyone has it, but no one can lose it.”_

_He was crying now. He could hear screams echoing around the room and he couldn’t recognize who they belonged too. He needed to answer the riddle. He needed to save them all._

“Stiles!”

_That was Scott again - he was shouting. He was in trouble._

_An image came unbidden to his mind of Scott leaning against the examination table, a katana pieced through his chest and Stiles stabbing it in further._

_He screamed against the tape over his mouth, trying to get the words out. Shadow, it was Shadow, Shadow, SHADOW._

_“Hmm.” The Nogitsune smirked, “That’s too bad Stiles, looks like your loved ones are fair game.”_

_His eyes widened and more tears came to his eyes. No, please… He needed to answer the riddle. Any way possible. He needed to show him…_

“STILES”

He opened his eyes and pain erupted in his arm. He was’t sure what was happening, his brain felt fuzzy and he could barely make out the panicking eyes of Scott who was standing in front of him.

No, leaning over him.

“Stiles, can you hear me?” His voice was thick with tears.

He tried to respond, but he couldn’t. The pain in his arm was too much. There were voices all around him, Lydia screaming into a phone…

He was in the loft…Derek’s loft. Not the basement of the Eichen house. He was with pack, he was safe…

He turned to look at his arm.

At first all he saw was blood, too much blood. In the the back of his mind he figured that that was why he felt so weak.

But his mind was focus on the cuts, the same chicken scratch handwriting, the same look as the carved up wall in his bedroom.

Shadow.

He had shown the Nogitsune he knew the answer to his riddle.

The only way he could.

 

***

 

He blacked out pretty soon after that.

He didn’t have any nightmares. He wondered if it had something to do with the medications that were pumping through his veins.

He woke up in the hospital. He recognized the smells and the sounds of machine beside him. His throat was dry like paper and his eyes were thick with sleep.

“Stiles?” He heard a soft feminine voice beside him, “Stiles can you hear me?”

It was Lydia. She was touching his face and if he weren’t so terrible unconscious he would have blushed and stuttered over himself, probably falling off the hospital bed in the process.

He lifted his hand, his throat was too dry to speak.

She gasped, “Stiles!”

He opened his eyes, blinking as he tried to focus on the person in front of him. She came into view, her normally immaculate makeup smeared down her cheeks. She’d been crying.

She turned to the door, “Scott!”

Stiles turned to the door where Scott burst into the room, Mrs. McCall right behind him. Both of them looked like they hadn’t slept in weeks.

Mrs. McCall came to him and started to take readings, doing all sorts of tests, “How’re you feeling Stiles.”

He opened his mouth, but his throat hurt to much to talk.

Mrs. McCall seemed to know and she turned to Lydia, “Lydia dear, can you go get some ice chips for me.”

She nodded and ran from the room like she’d been given a life or death task. Scott took up her spot, and held his hand smiling down at him. “How you feeling?”

Still looked down at the arm Scott was holding. It was bandaged. He briefly remembered the blood and the words.

“Wha…” His voice croaked. He winced, unable to finish.

Scott and Mrs. McCall exchanged looks and Scott sighed, looking down t him, “Stiles….you did it to yourself.”

A feeling of doubt entered his mind. Did he? Did he really? He didn't remember doing it. He wasn’t even there - he was in the basement of the Eichen house. What if it was the Nogitsune. What if the demon was back.

“Woah…” Scott back away as the machine next to him started to beep faster. His breathing coming out in short breaths. “Stiles, Stiles man…”

“Hey.” Mrs. McCall came over to him, “Stiles, look at me. You’re safe, you’re safe.”

“No…” HIs voice came out in rasps, “I don’t….I can’t….”

Lydia came back in the room at that moment, a cup filled with ice. “Stiles?”

He looked at Lydia and he felt a sort of calm spreading through his chest. He remembered the last time she’d been with him though a panic attack - the feeling of her lips pressed sharply against his.

He focussed on that, trying to calm himself down. He focused on the memory - on Lydia.

He wasn’t sure when Lydia became his Anchor.

Once he’d calmed down enough Lydia started to feed him the ice chips. They melted in his mouth and the cool water dripping down his throat felt good.

His dad shows up half an hour later, almost running into the room. He saw Stiles sitting here, sucking on the ice chips, and he let out a breath.

“Stiles.”

He looked at his dad sadly, feeling like he should be ashamed, “Hey Dad.”

His dad moved over and hugged him tightly. Stiles felt tears in his eyes as he brought up his good arm and wrapped ti around his back. “I’m Okay dad. I’m okay.”

“I thought I’d lost you.” His dad’s voice choked, “I thought-“

“I’m okay.” He repeated, lying through his teeth, “I’m okay.”

Others came as well. Isaac and surprisingly Chris Argent dropped by to check up on him. They were both still packing, planning on heading back to Paris, where Chris had some extended family to live with.

Kira and her family came to visit, which was a little weird to him. He wasn’t sure how to feel about Kira’s mother, the woman who had called the Nogitsune into the world.

Malia came to see him at one point, but she didn’t exactly have the best bedside manner. Her social abilities had been long damaged by her time as a coyote, and while she was making progress he doubted that she’d ever be able to fit in. But she’d been a nice change - her bluntness was different to everyone else, who liked to walk on egg shells around him.

Derek showed up nearly a week later, which had been a bit weird. He hadn’t seen the wolf in a while, he had problems of his own to deal with. But he’d sat in his room silently, which was probably about the closest to a ‘I was worried about you’ that Stiles was gonna get out of him

And then it was just him and Scott.

“Stiles….” Scott whispered, and Stiles knew what he was going to ask, “Why did you do it?”

Stiles looked down at his arm. The word ‘shadow’ was stitched into his arm. It was going to scar, the words permanently sealed into his skin.

“I…” Stiles didn’t know what to say, how to explain, “I had to show him…”

Scott didn’t understand, but he nodded like he did, “Mom said you were having a flashback.”

Stiles nodded. He had been. Derek’s loft had been cold that day, too cold, cold enough that it had triggered the memory of the Eichen Basement.

“How long?”

Stiles bit his lip to stop them from quivering, “Since….” He suck in a deep breath, trying not to cry, “Since the Nogitsune.”

Scotts face stilled as he studied his best friend, “Stiles…”

“I’m sorry.” His voice shook, “I’m sorry, I…I’m sorry.”

“No.” Scott shook his head, “No, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I killed so many people.” He choked, “And…I couldn’t stop him, I was too weak-“

“That’s not your fault.” Scott sat on his bed, looking down at him, “Your mind was open because of the sacrifice. It could have been any of us.”

Stiles got a weird feeling in his stomach and turned to look at Scott. “He…he liked to play games.”

Scott frowned, “What?”

“Riddles were his favourite.” Stiles voice was weak, and he looked everywhere but Scott. Looking at the wall made it easier to get it out, like he was alone, just talking to himself. His lip shook again and he closed his eyes, “Everyone has it….but no one can lose it.”

Scott looked at him with an unreadable expression on his face. His eyes were filled with tears, “I…I don’t know.”

“Neither did I.” Stiles whimpered, “It’s the only one I didn’t know.”

Scott tried to give him a smile, “I probably wouldn’t know any of them.”

Stiles gave him a choked smile, before his face went serious again. “He said….if I could tell him the answer that…that he wouldn’t hurt you guys, he’s leave my friends and family alone.”

A look of understanding came over Scotts face, “Stiles, it was lying. You know that right.”

“Yeah…” Stiles nodded, “I know, but…”

“Look.” Scott sat down beside him, “The Nogitsune isn’t you, it wasn’t you.”

He winced, the real reason for his panic coming to the surface.

“What if it is?” He whispered. Scott went to argue but Stiles shook his head, “I see you looking at me, thinking the same thing. What if it’s still in me.”

“Its not!”

“How do you know?!” Stiles cried, “What if it is, what if this is just a trick, and it’s gonna come through again and-“

“Stiles.” Scott interrupted him. He looked so confident, “It’s not in you.”

Stiles stopped talking, looking down at his arm, “How can you know?”

“Because there wouldn’t be a point to it.” Scott smiled, “You’re right, we were thinking about it. But we decided that it was gone.”

Stiles sighed, “What if it’s trying to make you let your guard down.”

“Because where’s the fun in that?” Scott asked. Seeing Stiles furrowed eyebrows he continued, “The Nogitsune is a trickster Stiles, everything it did was part of a game - his game. He thought it was fun. If he was going to do that he wouldn’t let you go, he’d pretend to be you.”

“How do you know he isn’t?”

Scott gave him a look that made Stiles think of a puppy. He picked up Stiles sticked up arm and smiled at him.

“Shadow?” Scott questioned.

Stiles flinched, but then replied softly, “Everyone has it…..but no one can lose it.”

“Shadow.” Scott nodded. He smiled at him for a second then chuckled, “You wanna know why I knew it’s you Stiles?”

Stiles frowned, “How?”

Scott reached over and pulled him into a hug, “Because only you would say you’re fine when you’re so obviously not.”

 

***

 

Scott was right. He wasn’t okay.

But he would be.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first Teen Wolf fic I've written. I just started Season 4 a few days ago and I was suer bummed out at the lack of Stiles angst after all the stuff he went through in 3B. I have a feeling I'm gonna be writing a lot of post-nogitsune stuff. Drop me some feedback lovelies :)
> 
> -Ash


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